i failed.
But you know what?
At least I failed epicly
so spectacularly
that the best he could say is
"At least you played the notes right"
they were not in tune
nor to any rhythm
Does this make me a failure?
Perhaps
I don't care though
because I'm just relieved
it's done
although I suppose it was over
the moment I thought
"I'M DOOMED"
when I could finally let go of the breath
the stale hopes
I was holding onto so tightly
until my palms were slick with liquid fear
Laughing at myself
in advance
at the voice inside who calls me
a loser
batting at the incessant fly
constantly hovering by my ear
incessantly buzzing that I am not enough
I am a disappointment
But you know what?
These knees have seen the ground
more times than you can count
and all I can do
is dust off the scrapes
red pride dripping down my leg
and carry on
Why not
try to have a good time
while I'm at it?
It stings, and it hurts
to be taken down a few rungs
but isn't all medicine bitter?
To be able to laugh at oneself
To truly, genuinely be merry
after, despite failure
is to say
I am proud of what I have done,
despite the voices, buzzing, scrapes
one day they will be but
echoes, corpses, scars
They are the proof that
I am not yet broken.
At least I failed epicly
so spectacularly
that the best he could say is
"At least you played the notes right"
they were not in tune
nor to any rhythm
Does this make me a failure?
Perhaps
I don't care though
because I'm just relieved
it's done
although I suppose it was over
the moment I thought
"I'M DOOMED"
when I could finally let go of the breath
the stale hopes
I was holding onto so tightly
until my palms were slick with liquid fear
Laughing at myself
in advance
at the voice inside who calls me
a loser
batting at the incessant fly
constantly hovering by my ear
incessantly buzzing that I am not enough
I am a disappointment
But you know what?
These knees have seen the ground
more times than you can count
and all I can do
is dust off the scrapes
red pride dripping down my leg
and carry on
Why not
try to have a good time
while I'm at it?
It stings, and it hurts
to be taken down a few rungs
but isn't all medicine bitter?
To be able to laugh at oneself
To truly, genuinely be merry
after, despite failure
is to say
I am proud of what I have done,
despite the voices, buzzing, scrapes
one day they will be but
echoes, corpses, scars
They are the proof that
I am not yet broken.
Posted On: https://youngwritersproject.org/node/34794 & Daily Read
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